


The Good Old Warden Appetite Syndrome Strikes Again

by MiliusPrime



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 15:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6245371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiliusPrime/pseuds/MiliusPrime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The first change I noticed was an increase in appetite. I used to get up in the middle of the night and raid the castle larder. I thought I was starving."<br/>She’d laughed with him then. “That’s me, Alistair the pig!” And she'd assumed he was playing it up for dramatic effect. Now, she felt the truth of it keenly. Learning the hard way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Good Old Warden Appetite Syndrome Strikes Again

Solona woke up feeling off. That should have been the first sign to her that something was wrong, but being a Grey Warden had so far meant all kinds of strange things happening to her body, so she’d written it off as nothing and climbed out of her tent with nary a word.

By midday the feeling had grown. She felt somewhat light-headed and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking despite the warm sunny day, a rare one for Fereldan this time of year. But Solona stubbornly set her mouth, lips forming a determined line as she glanced at Morrigan, Alistair, Leliana, Sten… she was their leader and she’d be dammed if she let a little light-headedness make them think her anything less than strong and capable. Besides, it wasn’t likely she was actually sick, she usually got a sore throat a day in advance before any kind of illness, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had one that year. She trudged on, leading them through the forest, map leading to the village they were headed to clutched tightly in hand. There was an inn there, with hot food and warm beds, and she’d have plenty of time to rest then.

They stopped early, having found an ideal spot to camp. Just a few miles out from the village, according to the map. A little outcropping in a large pile of rocks, a good 700 feet of relatively level land before sloping down into the gentle curve of a hill. A river bubbled softly nearby. It was Leliana’s turn to cook dinner, and the smell of something wonderful wafted through the air. Solona took a deep breath in through her nose, enjoying the appetizing scent. And nearly choked as what felt like a stone fist clutched her gut in a vice grip. She struggled to breathe for a moment, shallow breaths barely moving her rigid frame. She forced herself to breathe deeply, and walked stiffly over to sit on a large fallen log near the fire.

“Hear you me, if that hundred pound bulk of wet Fereldan beast you call ‘dog’ sees fit to place one more ‘present’ in my pack, ‘tis not my fault if you find him tied by his paws dangling from a tree the next morn.” Morrigan commented, glancing up at Solona from where she knelt next to the fire, holding a dripping wet piece of cloth over it to dry. Leliana chuckled as she stirred the contents of the pot.

“I had to wash it three times to get out all the-“ Morrigan did a double take, and a strange look passed over her face.

“Are you… quite well my friend? Your face, ‘tis rather pale indeed.”

“I’m fine. A little tired maybe, is all. Clearing out that cave full of darkspawn we came across took a bit out of me.” Solona squelched a grin at her, forcing the muscles in her face to relax. Was it just her or was the log sinking through the ground?

“If you insist.” Morrigan said, though her eyes narrowed as her face fell into her usual look of casual doubt.

“Supper is ready.” Leliana called out to the others – Alistair had been indulging Teddy, the hound, by throwing a stick for him to fetch, Sten, off doing some sort of quiet contemplation, though she could have sworn she’d heard the soft tinkly scraping sound of someone sharpening a weapon.

They wandered over and took their seats by the fire, passing around wooden bowls and spoons. Leliana generously ladled out the stew. Glimpses of potatoes, carrots, peas, rice… venison. Solona stood abruptly, and swayed as her head suddenly felt like it had detached itself from the weight of the rest of her body. Though she couldn’t be bothered to care, because as her feet took her over to Leliana and her golden ladle, she finally realized what the cold iron claw mercilessly gripping her gut was.

Hunger.

_Hunger_ , like she’d never felt before. Her hands holding the bowl out to Leliana _shook_ and she bit back the desperate keen that threatened to breach her lips as the bard filled her bowl with ladle after ladle of stew.

_Hunger,_ she was so focused on the food in her bowl she nearly tripped on a large twig on her way over to sit next to Alistair, already eating, on the log.

_Hunger_ , the first desperate spoonful of stew in her mouth before her body even made contact with the log, and she couldn’t chew fast enough.

_Hunger_ , and between frantic bites, she remembered something Alistair had said many weeks ago near when they had first met.

_The first change I noticed was an increase in appetite. I used to get up in the middle of the night and raid the castle larder. I thought I was starving._

She’d laughed with him then, “ _That’s me, Alistair the pig!”_ assuming he was playing it up for dramatic effect. Now, she felt the truth of it keenly _._ Learning the hard way.

No matter how quickly she shoveled the bites in, barely bothering to chew, it did nothing to help the sharp clench in her gut. It was an awful, desperate feeling. She felt emotion swell to form a lump in her throat and her frantic chewing slowed. Her face burned and hot tears spilled down her face, plopping onto her spoon. She was so _hungry_.

A hand gently gripped her shoulder.

“Solona, what’s wrong?” Alistair’s voice was soft with concern. His eyes were pinched with worry, expression tightening at the look in her eyes.

“I’m so _hungry_.” The last word came out as a sob.

“Ah.” He understood immediately, and rubbed a soothing hand down her back, and wiped her tears with the other.  He gently patted her hand that shook with the spoon.

“Just take it slowly. One bite after the other. I know it feels like you’re dying right now but trust me, the feeling doesn’t last forever.” Once she felt like she could breathe again, she took a bite.

“Ah, don’t forget to chew. I know it’s hard but it’s worth it. Later.”

She forced herself to chew the next bite. It was difficult to ignore the urge to shovel it down, anything to abate the cold iron claw in her abdomen where her stomach should have been. But Alistair’s hand rubbed soothing circles on her back and his attempts to distract her with humor helped.

They continued like that for some while, Alistair explaining what he called her case of the “Good Old Warden Appetite Syndrome” to the others when they approached curiously to find out the cause of her distress.

Finally, after six bowls of stew and ten slices of bread, the feeling abated. Solona felt like crying in relief, and did a bit. And then laughed.

Alistair smiled, “What is it? Find a funny message hidden in the bottom of all your stew bowls, did you?”

Solona shook her head at him and just grinned, “Being a warden is such a…. such an experience. If that’s what darkspawn feel like all the time, no wonder they chase after everything that moves with murderous, devouring intent.”

“Do the darkspawn eat then? Where would all it go? They’re all bones. Does it just fall straight through, do you wonder?”

“Now there’s an image. I should have just gotten you to say that to me before I started eating. Would’ve gotten rid of my appetite instantly.”

“Seeeee? I am useful.”

“Indeed.” She said with a giggle.

“Did you hear that Morrigan? Solona says I’m _useful_! U-s-e-f-u-l.”

There was a disdainful scoff, and a muttered “ _Fools_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Right so, this is my first piece that I'm posting here on ao3 and formatting is difficult so bear with me while I figure this out and make ten thousand format edits, but ah, I just have had this scenario building in my mind ever since that dialogue with Alistair. Poor Warden.  
> Hope you enjoyed it and if you have any pointers for me regarding formatting they would be much appreciated! :)


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